


a still day in autumn

by Gee_Writes



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gee_Writes/pseuds/Gee_Writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple morning on a rooftop; the early hours spent with friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a still day in autumn

They sat on the rooftop in the early morning, autumn air freezing breath and pillowing the surrounds in mist.

The sun had yet to rise, the sky silvery in the pale morning light of pre-dawn. The smoke of Hinoe's pipe curled lilac, drifting to mingle amongst the few fading stars. He could feel himself drifting, lulled with the peace, happy that the two spirits had woken him for this.

The crisp air smelt of frost and plum, fragrant and sweet.

Sensei purred warmly against his chest, his complaints for sake long passed. A slight breeze rustled the branches of the old cherry; the few leaves left, dancing against the shimmering horizon.

This morning was the beginning of a migration; where seasonal and transient spirits would start to embark for somewhere warmer – the final lingering days of summer coming to an end. And right now, with the sun rising golden over the mountains, he saw them take flight – all shapes and sizes against the sky, the beating of wings and the sounds of birdsong.

It was just another reminder of time passing.

Another month with the Fujiwaras; another season spent in the quiet country town. In a few weeks, it would be two years – of meeting people, returning names, making friends. Finding a place for himself between the real and yokai worlds. A delicate balance that had him teetering from time to time.

The tiles of the roof were still slightly damp, a lingering dew seeping into the back of his pants, slippers slipping slightly as he shifted. Another rustle of wind.

Lavender and honeycomb banded the atmosphere, the gentle mist curling back towards the mountains as the morning alighted. Bright sunlight had started to spill from the east, and with the daybreak, so too the town was stirring.

Even more so than the migration, Takashi found himself thankful for being awake for this. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could hear. The rolling shutters of opening stores, the tuning of a radio. The quick wheels of a bicycle as the morning paper was being delivered, Nakamura-san down the road letting her cat out. Tohko-san shuffling somewhere directly below as she prepared breakfast. All these things mixing into a melody, comfortable and peaceful.

And above it all, the flute-like whistle of an unseen yokai mingled with the rest. An ethereal presence that resonated in his mind.

The few clouds, chasing each other across the sky, reminded him of something. Of cool days in middle school watching the day seep into evening. Safely on shrine grounds, it had always been a place he could rest; to imagine drifting along, as if weightless.

A feeling he wasn't quite sure was nostalgia curled in his chest, inviting a smile. Sensei still bundled between his lap and his chest, plush and soft.

Time had seemed to finally catch up to the scene, the morning light finally prompting the teen to consider climbing back to his window; folding the futon away before Tohko-san called him to eat.

The start of a new day, in this quiet country town awash in autumn.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks for reading this, I hope it turned out OK!
> 
> The title is taken from Sarah Helen Power Whitman's poem of the [same name](http://www.bartleby.com/360/7/110.html).
> 
> If you want to leave me a message, or just chat, my tumblr is compulsive-bibliotaph.tumblr.com


End file.
